


once upon a time, there was

by strangesmallbard



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fairy Tale Retellings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 18:00:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11719587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangesmallbard/pseuds/strangesmallbard
Summary: i may only have fragments but i know this. here, there is a chosen one, an evil queen, and a little prince. and they love each other.





	once upon a time, there was

**Author's Note:**

> now it's time for? something real meta! a couple of months ago bailey (grevling!) prompted me to write sq in the style of the grimm brothers' but also my undergrad thesis! which was super about regina, but also the evil queen from the story herself, who she is, why she needed to die at the end of every version of the story, and how she can live. and so...this happened? i didn't think i'd like omnipresent first person narrators, but anything can happen! this is dedicated to swen, and all the years we've been here. 
> 
> i hope you enjoy!

1.

  
  
i have a story to tell. you know it. but i have to tell it, and i have to tell it right. i don’t know if i have the words in order.  
  
once upon a time there was a girl. she lived the life people wanted her to lead, and she wasn’t too unhappy. she spent her winters in the snow she was named for, bundled up for the weather. sometimes she wondered how the cold felt. she didn’t wonder too long. she got married, and she had another black haired, pale child, and then she died.  
  
except, once upon a time a woman moved into the castle. she took long strides and longer walks and outlined her eyes. she wanted to clearly see. she wanted to be seen. it was important that those she killed saw her. she was beautiful.  
  
and she hated the girl. hated her most. and the girl was jostled into a forest where her virtues were tested and tested and tried and true. we all know that story.

  
  
2.

  
  
she dies. the woman. the queen. i don’t have to tell you that.  
  
you don’t have to mourn her. few have. sometimes she’s risen again from the grave, the dust untangled from her limp stringy hair, the look of horror on her face wiped clean, and her skin unmarred and her smile cruel. she’s the queen and then she’s named, brangomar, grimhilde, claudia, elspeth, clementianna, ravenna. but she always returns, and i think she knows.  
  
i don’t think she cares. i think she laughs at us. she casts her spells and her skirts billow out and maybe her lipstick runs, and maybe she doesn’t wear lipstick. i know she laughs at us.  
  
few will say it’s admirable.  
  
  
3.  
  
  
  
once upon a time, the queen lived.  
  
her name is regina. it is important you know. this time her name means queen, and her own mother condemned her to this story. not that she knew. regina loves horses. it’s important that you know. the story took hold of both her arms, and she loved to ride horses.  
  
she saved the girl in this story. she didn’t ask for anything back. it wasn’t heroism so much as common sense.  
  
she loved a boy. or she loved an unwritten page. a pen (ballpoint, quill, no2. pencil) waiting for answer, for regina to open a barn door that would never be opened. she became the queen, and watched all the colors dim around her beautiful white dress. regina did not join the pages willingly.  
  
it is important that you know.

 

4.

 

sometimes, the queen is a chill creeping up your spine and settling at the base of your neck. and sometimes the fire that rages, the smoke that coats the air in anger. she is every step in her burning shoes. and most of all, sometimes she is so alive.  
  
regina made people suffer. it was not indiscriminate. she exacted her judgement, her trial, and her execution in so few or so many words. it’s easier for some to think she went mad, that somewhere within her is a young girl who laughed into the wind and loved a boy and saved a girl without asking for anything back, screaming to be let free.  
  
that part is true.  
  
the queen is a fire, and she is a girl, and at the end of the day she takes off her eyeliner and her lipstick all by herself. she looks herself in the eye, vestiges and effigies dropped like bodies all around her. some will also say that she hates herself. it is easier for them to say that.  
  
_you made me,_ she says to the mirror. _you did this.  
_

 

5.

  
  
when she took her final revenge against the child who ruined her life, she moved them all to a small town in maine.  
  
and she was the only one to remember. that’s the true curse. being part of a different story. an open ended story. the forest is gone, the fields and the castles too, and only the queen is left in her own kingdom.  
  
the queen is not a mother. the story is very clear. whoever she is, she is not maternal or motherly or nurturing. she tries to eat the heart of the only daughter she’s ever known. she’s jealous of her. she blames her for everything.  
  
regina adopts a son, and she loves him.

  
  
6.

  
  
once upon a time, snow white had a daughter and she lost her.  
  
prophecies are a story in and of themselves. we know about the chosen one. we know they’re meant to suffer. we know that they’re noble people at heart who are tested and tried and true.  
  
emma swan is angry. it is important that you know this. her heart is noble and her smile is hesitant and one day she’ll have a sword on her hip just like her father, (get into a white dress just like her mother).  
  
and she is angry.  
  
maybe i don’t need answers, maybe i need to punch you in the face, she says with her fists bared and her jaw locked tight.  
  
rumplestiltskin, like in every story, laughs at the women who bargain with him.

 

7.  
 

once upon a time there was a girl. she lived the life people wanted her to lead, and she wasn’t too unhappy. she spent her winters in the snow she was named for, bundled up for the weather. sometimes she wondered how the cold felt. she didn’t wonder too long. she got married, and she had a daughter named emma.  
  
princess emma was like no one expected. she rode horses and skinned her knees and people worried, but the queen laughed and said, she’ll come to understand herself. she’ll understand who she needs to be.  
  
princess emma sings in the forest in a pink dress or,  
  
princess emma lives in her skinned knees and brittle smile or,  
  
princess emma lives the life people wanted her to lead, and she wasn’t too unhappy. she sang about a prince in the forest that always bloomed, and she found him. he had an adequate amount of stubble, and he sang her away into a new old life, and snow white, the queen, dies peacefully as every day she lived.  
  
emma swan is not princess emma. snow white never stops hoping.

  
8.  


once upon a time, a girl lived in a house at the end of the lane. it is not her house, and she knows this. she knows it like the three freckles on the back of her hand, and the looped script of EMMA on her baby blanket.  
  
she doesn’t know why she was born, and she doesn’t have anyone to ask. she is shuffled from house to house and the families on television feel as real as the families she sits down to meals with. she watches peter pan twenty-four times, and thinks about someone taking her away.

she takes herself away.  
  
her favorite candy is starburst, but she won’t eat the orange ones. she gets a stick n poke of a swan on her shoulder when she’s seventeen, and the beak is a little too crooked. she cuts her own hair, and sometimes she just wants none of it all. she listens to loud music, and her jeans have holes in the knee.  
  
when she’s seventeen she tries striped skirts and lipstick, and meets a boy.  
  
he says they’ll go anywhere. start a blank page.  
  
emma swan is not a story, but she’s part of one. the boy leaves her to the story and a little pink plus sign.  
  
_i’m sorry,_ she thinks to a grimy prison mirror and curls her fists, _i’m sorry._

 

9.

  
once upon a time, emma makes a wish.

she wishes not to be alone on her birthday. she doesn’t really believe in wishes, and many will understand why. she is the chosen one, and it is her turn to suffer, and she doesn’t know why yet. one day she will. and she will be angry. she will ask why her, a lost girl that was never found, and she’ll understand how these stories go. she will not fall on a sword, and she’ll throw it at a dragon instead.  
  
but tonight she asks something of the universe. something for her. something she won’t let herself cry for. she figures, maybe, once, it’ll listen.  
  
she gets her wish.  
  
  
10.  
  
  
“you’re henry’s birth mother?” regina mills says, afraid of this moment like she has been for the last ten years. the queen was never a mother.

“hi,” emma swan says, because she never thought this moment would come. one day the chosen one will have a family and will have peace, but–  
  
“i found my real mom!” henry mills says, and runs upstairs clutching a very important book in his small fists aching to be noble like the princes before him.  
  
when emma sees regina, there are no more pages written in it. nothing new.

she sees a woman clutch one arm with the opposite’s hand and gather herself together in deep breaths that rise her shoulders and set something hard on her face. she will wonder why.

  
  
11.

  
  
regina mills likes eighties exercise videos. the sweat on her brow is not from carrying a kingdom. every morning she still sits in front of her mirror and tries to recognize her reflection. the queen is still alive. it is important that you know.  
  
her son lives down the hall, and there are drawings of them up on his wall, regina a squiggle and a smile. a photo of them rests on her bedside table and there are long walks in the park with laughter and figuring out the best cookie recipe. spit-up, fevers, and math homework, regina scrubbing her favorite blue shirt with her heart hammering and her smile true. the queen has never been a mother before.  
  
and her story wasn’t over. when she sees the face she’s been searching for in the pages of his very important book, she feels her chest cave in. the barn door close.  
  
emma swan is not in the book. her red leather jacket nowhere to be found. and she won’t ever be part of it, if it’s the last thing regina ever does.  
  
but that’s not quite it.

  
  
12.

  
  
“how the hell did you get like this?” emma asks, hands on her hips. the mayor’s office is so damn chilly, it’s a wonder how she gets any work done. oh right, with that cold cold heart of hers, haha.  
  
it’s not a chill she sees in regina’s eyes. maybe in the harsh set of her lips. maybe in the way she squeezes the chair’s fancy arms in a way she thinks emma won’t notice. there’s something there. a fire that scathes and a smoke that suffocates. something like that.  
  
emma will leave wondering.

  
  
13.

  
  
you know the rest of this story. you know that henry falls to the poison apple like his grandmother and regina tells him she loves him and the room doesn’t believe her, but she does. love is not an issue of morality.  
  
when emma and regina join together to save their son, it is not the final battle this new story asked for. this small town in maine will have to wait for the evil queen to be defeated once and for all.  
  
it is only this: a little boy breathing, and two mothers holding their breath.

  
  
14.  
  
emma swan and regina mills fight. they were meant to fight, after-all, never see eye to eye. and yet, they did. and they found out that if they work together, they’re unstoppable. they can open a portal. they can move the moon. they can stop a town from being destroyed.  
  
in all the fighting, in all the next chapters, what they really wanted, all they ever wanted, is the other to know their name. emma swan moved from dinner table to dinner table, hoping someone would say it with love instead of contempt, and regina ate dinner with men and women who thought her worthless and don’t know they’ll die for it.  
  
emma’s praises are sung, and she watches regina sink into the background with her claws bared. emma doesn’t feel like a savior. emma doesn’t want to be part of the story, because with so many people smiling at her, she’s bound to disappoint someone. fail to save someone.  
  
when regina says, “let me die as regina,” emma stops wondering and she doesn’t want her to die. the truth is so stunning, visceral in the way she reaches out a hand, that–

 

15.

 

at the end of the story, a prince sees snow white in her glass coffin and decides she is so beautiful and virtuous and good that he must have her. he orders his servants to carry her up to his castle so that he may look upon her forever, but they tripped on a rock and the coffin came tumbling down. the poison apple dislodged from her throat, and she agreed to be married to her noble rescuer.

they watched her die. i want you to know. they watched. that was the point. 

at the end of the story, a prince happens upon a servant girl and decides she is so beautiful and virtuous and good that he must have her. she sings about him, a delicate tune. he saves her from her gilded coffin with a delicate kiss.

they don’t watch. the dwarves take care of that.

at the end of the story, there is a prince. i know this story. i used to touch my hand to my lips and wonder about a kiss that saves. he sees a girl in danger and pulls her out of the woods. in return, he marries her. we should want to be pulled from the forest, but wanting isn’t the only step. first we have to deserve it. 

at the end of the story, there’s a man who wants something.

 

16.

 

hook says to emma, _when i win your heart, it’ll be because you want me._  

regina mills gives her heart for protection to robin hood, and we are to forget about maid marian and how regina most of all knows the ravages of destiny. as the story goes, she forgives destiny, this one final time for the sake of a happy ending.

this story has been told so many times, and i’m not going to tell it again.

i have another story to tell. you may know it. but i have to tell it, and i have to tell it right. i don’t know if i have the words in order. there’s no book in my hand, no script to follow. i can reach back in history and pull together the fragments, talk about all the women who told stories about a life they wished they could lead, about the life they are leading and what to do about it, the ones who responded, the ones who perpetuated, the ones with sharp smiles, the ones who sang their children to sleep, and never wanted any at all.

i may only have fragments but i know this. here, there is a chosen one, an evil queen, and a little prince. and they love each other.

 

17.

 

once upon a time, emma saved regina from a fire and regina didn’t believe she would. _you’re not going to come back for me, are you?_ was not a question. 

once upon a time, emma saved her son with true love’s kiss.

once upon a time, regina held emma’s hand so very softly in hers and offered a happy ending for nothing in return. but that was later. 

once upon a time, regina dreamed that emma came to storybooke to destroy her. she woke up terrified, after years of training herself to believe love was a weakness. 

once upon a time, emma promised her a happy ending in a room full of untold stories.

once upon a time, regina broke her son’s curse with true love’s kiss. 

once upon a time, henry calls them _moms_ with happy crook of a smile and learns what it means to be a hero. 

once upon a time, emma took on the darkness so that regina wouldn’t have to again. it’s not like she doesn’t know it herself. remember, emma swan is angry.

once upon a time, regina ventured into another story and found an almost world. she almost let her son destroy her in the hopes that emma would remember them. 

once upon a time, emma swan chose to come home.

once upon a time, regina decided the evil queen must go, must be written out of this new story entirely, and emma asked _are you sure about this?_ and was the only one to ask.

once upon a time–

 

18.

 

“are you sure about this?” emma asks. they’re in the dim light of the living room, and emma is curled gently into the couch. she may be borrowing the robe and the mug with hot chocolate, but the grooves of the couch are familiar and the way regina tilts her head to consider the firelight feels like belonging. 

regina’s heart is not two anymore. it beats like a heart only can when it knows the weight of one, torn out, turned to dust. it beats like before. except– 

she holds a thumb to her throat like she expects to find the ring. her eyes flit up. “i wasn’t sure before.” she raises both brows and tilts her head again. “but you knew that.”

emma leans her head against a crooked elbow behind her. “i knew you were sure about a change. something wasn’t working.”

regina keeps looking at her, her eyes big and full of something. she laughs, a sardonic thing, and leans back against the couch. “you could say that.” 

she looks back at the firelight and listens to her heart again. she listens for the inkling at the back of her neck, the rush down into her fingertips, and it’s there. it’s there. “it worked. i got to see the rage in her eyes and know the kind of terror she unleashed. and i pretended that,” she sucks in a breath and looks at emma like she’s afraid of what she’ll find. “i pretended that i didn’t understand her. the rage. anymore.”

emma chews the inside of her cheek. “when i was the dark one sometimes i’d look into the mirror and i don’t know...recognize myself? for the first time. not the hair.” she quirks a grin and regina smiles. she runs a hand through her hair and sighs out the evening. “but at the same time i knew i wasn’t supposed to exist. i was... _the savior_. my parents sacrificed a whole other kid just so i’d be good. and i messed that up. i didn’t know what to do with that.”

“emma,” regina says, voice crackling like the fire and waits until she looks back, but when she does, cannot find a single word to say. she reaches up and tucks a strand of hair away. 

“i guess what i mean to say is. maybe we just beat destiny again. became something nobody could have expected, and maybe that’s okay.” she tilts her head.

“i…” she reaches out for her wine glass, but second guesses it. “i think you did.” she smiles, and emma knows it’s a real one, one she gives more and more in emma’s direction. “the evil queen couldn’t hurt anyone _ever_ again on my watch, but i couldn’t…” devastation claws at the last syllable, and she keeps looking. “i looked into her eyes, and i realized that it wasn’t a clean cut down the middle. it couldn’t have been. she was _me._ and if there’s anything i know about the evil queen, it’s the desperate refusal to be anything other than herself. even with twenty five arrows pointed at her chest and her own father watching.” 

emma’s hand is holding regina’s. neither are sure when she took it. emma runs a thumb across her knuckles, and watches regina gather herself in one deep breath. “and if there’s one thing i know about myself,” she says, quiet and firm, “it’s that i was terrified.” she lets go of emma’s hand and rubs her other arm. she picks up her wine glass and takes the last sip. 

“i’m glad you didn’t kill the evil queen.” 

regina rears back, eyes wide and hands untethered. “you don’t have to say that. “

“regina–”

“she– _i_ hated you. at first. we hated each other.”

“regina…”

“no, it’s true. but you...henry…” she looks up the staircase, like he could be running down at any moment, asking for cookies and answers and space paranoids. but he’s fifteen now and he’s still kind and just a bit more sure, and sleeps in till noon now anyway. “you don’t need to love that she’s still around. it’s okay.”

“she’s a part of you,” emma says, swallowing. the truth is so stunning that she cannot keep the next words from tumbling out of her mouth.  “and i love you.” 

regina’s hands go still. she watches emma, her face unflinchingly clear and smile earnestly tugging the corners of her lips up. “what?” she says, voice high.

“i love you,” emma says. she shrugs, though she is anything but hesitant. “i can’t be who i’m not, and neither can you. we’re in this thing together.” 

“oh,” regina says, soft and heartbroken. she clears her throat, and laughs but it sounds kind of strangled. she shakes her head out of the moment, and reaches for the empty wine glass before realizing. she shakes her head again and musters enough energy to look back at her. “oh well, emma, yes. we are. i love you too.”

emma laughs, and the sound is startling as her smile, wide and creasing the lines by her eyes. she leans closer and places a hand by regina’s jaw, barely touching the beginnings of her neck with her fingertips. “for an evil queen that terrified realms across alternate dimensions, you’re kind of dense, madam mayor.” 

regina allows herself to hope. it’s a thing that soars across her veins, now unburied from some tender crevice. “oh,” she says. 

emma leans forward and regina leans forward and they meet in a mess of limbs tangled and awkward until regina reaches up to cup emma’s cheeks, and emma plays with the hairs at the back of regina’s neck, runs her hands down regina’s back to settle on her waist. they settle into the soft days ahead of them.

a familiar spark of magic courses through the room, the house, waking up their son because he thinks it’s an earthquake, and upon realizing thinks, _finally_ , but neither of them notice.

  
19.

 

that’s not the point.

 

20.

 

once upon a time, the story we know wasn’t needed at all.

and i hope i’ve told it right.


End file.
